


Remember How We Used To Do It

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Dominant Ransom, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21797839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: You and Ransom haven’t seen each other in years. Not until you make an appearance at his grandfather’s birthday party.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 164





	Remember How We Used To Do It

**Author's Note:**

> No major spoilers included, minor at best. Request for this made on my Tumblr. The line “honeyed but forked tongue” is from a description of Ransom from the movie posters.

Ransom Drysdale.

In all of existence, there wasn’t a more vile human being than Ransom Drysdale. Born with a honeyed but forked tongue and a silver spoon in his mouth. The quintessential trust-fund playboy. Spoiled brat. The man who took your virginity when you were just eighteen, wined and dined and romanced you for almost a year, then went off to college, never to be seen again.

Until his grandfather’s birthday party.

You went with your parents; they’d been friends with Ransom’s parents, Linda and Richard, for years. Attending the birthday party of a man old enough to be your grandfather wasn’t exactly high on your list of things to do, but you were visiting your parents and that’s what they were doing, so you decided to tag along, for lack of anything better to do. Your “vacation” was turning out to be nothing but a bore-fest, anything was better than sitting at home. There was always alcohol to get you through the night, if necessary.

You couldn’t help but wonder if the man you’d never quite gotten over was going to make an appearance at his grandfather’s birthday. The last you’d heard, Ransom was in the Bahamas, sleeping with anything with a pulse and blowing through his trust fund. You didn’t want to get your hopes up that he’d make an appearance, though a small part of you, the part that still lusted after him, hoped he would show up.

The party was exactly what you would expect from a bunch of middle-aged - and older - rich people. Boring. Fortunately, the alcohol was definitely flowing, whatever your heart desired. Several glasses of wine into the evening, you wandered upstairs to get away from the roomful of people; you were tired of listening to people discussing politics, tired of watching Meg rolling her eyes every time someone in her family opened their mouth, tired of pretending you were having a good time. You were beginning to regret the decision to come to this stupid party. Your head was spinning and you wanted to lie down for a minute.

You slipped into an empty bedroom at the end of the hallway and sank into a chair by the window with a sigh of relief. The silence wrapped itself around you, a comfort after the chaos of the party downstairs. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes.

“Still hiding from the adults in your life, I see,” a velvety voice murmured from the doorway.

“Ransom,” you laughed. You set your glass on the table and pushed yourself to your feet, grabbing the back of the chair when the room spun slightly. Ransom was right in front of you, grinning that cocky grin of his, one eyebrow raised. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you close.

“Long time, no see, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips so close you could feel his breath on your face.

“It’s been ages,” you nodded.

“I’ve missed you,” Ransom purred, still holding you close. “How’s life?”

“Boring.”

“Last I heard, you were getting married to some Wall Street schmuck. How’s that going?”

“It’s not.” You stared up at him, blinking, wondering how it was possible that being this close to him still made your stomach twist with unbridled need.

A wolfish grin spread across his face. “So, you’re single?”

“Still pining for you, I guess.” A nervous giggle escaped through your parted lips.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckled. “I was watching you downstairs. You haven’t changed at all. You’re still gorgeous.”

“And you’re still a sweet talker,” you murmured. “If I didn’t know better -” You snapped your mouth closed.

“What?” Ransom smirked. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

“Maybe I am.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the boredom, or just Ransom, but you pushed up on your toes and brushed a kiss across his lips. Shocked with yourself, you stumbled back a few steps, mumbling apologies under your breath.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I kissed you and...I, uh, I…”

“Are you gonna stand there mumbling all day or are you gonna let me kiss you? A real kiss this time?”

You froze, your eyes widening and your heart pounding. You blew out a shaky breath, squared your shoulders, and stared him in the eye. “Kiss me,” you said.

Ransom lunged at you, wrapping you in his arms and crushing you to his chest, your lips crashing together. He shoved you backward until you were pressed against the wall, stealing your breath away as he kissed you.

You grabbed the front of the sweater he was wearing, your fingers wrapped in the soft fabric, and pulled him close, desperate to feel every inch of his body against yours.

“Jesus, Ransom,” you groaned.

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name,” he growled. “Makes me want to fuck your brains out.”

“Oh my God,” you gasped. “You can’t say stuff like that. Are you trying to kill me?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m trying to fuck you,” Ransom laughed.

“Try harder,” you giggled.

“I do love a challenge.” He took hold of your hands, pulled them over your head, and held them in place with one hand. He slipped his other hand beneath your shirt and up your side, cupping your breast, his thumb circling the nipple, pulling a breathy moan from you.

“Damn it,” you moaned.

“You okay?” Ransom asked, his lips on your throat, biting and sucking as he pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yes,” you hissed. “Just...please don’t stop.”

A smile spread across his stupid, attractive face, his blue eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter. “Oh, sweetheart, I am just starting. I want to hear you begging me to fuck you, begging me to let you come,” he murmured. “Remember how we used to do it?”

Of course you remembered. You didn’t easily forget someone like Ransom. He had shown you things, taught you things, things that would make a hooker blush. Memories of your time with Ransom were rushing over you, reminding you of just how much you’d missed him, missed this.

“I...I remember.”

Ransom laughed, low in the back of his throat. He kept your hands locked in his as he maneuvered you to the bed and laid you across it. Goosebumps spread across your skin and heat exploded through your belly as he quickly removed your clothes, tossing them over his shoulder to the floor, his sweater quickly joining them, leaving him in just his pants and t-shirt. He put his hands on your hips and held you down, his lips traveling over your neck and chest, his tongue swirling around first one nipple, then the other. He moved down your body, nibbling a line down your stomach until he was between your legs. He pulled them over his shoulders, nuzzling your thighs with his nose. He covered you with his mouth, his tongue teasing at your soft folds and flicking at your clit.

You gripped the blanket on the bed and pushed yourself against Ransom’s face, a filthy groan leaving you, your body wound so tight you thought you might explode.

“So impatient, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he said, pulling away and rising to his knees. His jaw was set in a hard line, but his blue eyes flashed with a combination of lust, want, and glee. He leaned over you, a hand on either side of your head, and brushed a kiss across your lips. “You’re just going to have to be patient, baby. I promise you it will be worth it.”

Ransom started at your ears, nibbling the lobes, gently kissing the sensitive skin beneath them, moving along your jaw, peppering your neck and shoulders with soft kisses and love bites. He pulled your nipple into his mouth, sucking it greedily as he took your other breast in his hand, kneading it roughly. He moved down your stomach, his hand tracing circles on your skin, his lips following his hand to the apex of your thighs, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. He continued mouthing his way down your body until he had settled himself between your thighs, again. He blew a warm breath over your clit, sending a shiver through you.

Your hips came up off the bed and you reached for Ransom, grabbed the back of his head, moaning in frustration, desperate for him to put his mouth on you, egged on by Ransom’s fingers tracing over your swollen nub and his tongue delicately lapping at you. He sighed as he buried his head between your thighs, his middle finger sliding into you as he sucked your clit into his mouth, sending a jolt of intense heat through you. Your legs fell open and your hips came up, allowing Ransom to slide his hand beneath you, lifting you and holding you against his mouth.

You could feel it, feel the orgasm building, pleasure surging through you; you were about to let go, your toes curling, your fists clenched, fingers tangled in Ransom’s hair, your breath tearing in and out of your throat. You drew in a deep breath, ready to let loose with a litany of praise for the man who was giving you so much pleasure.

But instead of bringing you to orgasm, Ransom pulled away and gently kissed the insides of your thighs, his finger still pumping slowly in and out of you, keeping you right on the edge. You were on fire, coming undone, but not quite there.

“Ransom,” you moaned. “Goddammit, don’t stop.”

“Mmm, not just yet, sweetheart,” he whispered before diving back in, his tongue sliding into your soaking wet pussy alongside his finger, thrusting in and out as he brushed his finger back and forth across that one spot that he’d always been able to find and stimulate, that one spot that made your vision go black, made your heart skip a beat, made you come undone.

You writhed beneath him, right at the peak, ready and willing to fall over that edge, but Ransom slowed his movements to the point where you were teetering on the edge once again, wanting so badly to come that tears were forming in the corner of your eyes, every nerve ending burning with the need to let go.

“I…fuck…I need to come, Ransom, please,” you begged, falling back onto the bed with a frustrated groan, cursing under your breath.

Ransom rose up on his knees, his face damp with your slick, his chest heaving, his pants tented from his arousal. “Oh baby, you are not being a very good girl,” he growled. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, then he leaned over you as he loosened his belt, his mouth mere inches from yours, your breath mingling with his. “I think I need to remind you who’s in charge.” He licked a line up your throat, over your jaw to your mouth. “Do you remember how we used to do that? How I used to punish you, Y/N?” he asked quietly.

“Y-yes,” you stammered. How could you ever forget? Ransom had shown you things you’d never imagined were possible, done things to you and with you that you had never thought you’d do, made you feel things you’d never thought you’d feel. All of that came rushing back and you wanted to feel all of those things again.

Ransom took a hold of your face, holding it in his large hand, pulling you to him. He kissed you, a hard, bruising kiss that left you moaning for more. “Answer the question. Do I need to punish you?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “Jesus Christ, yes.”

Ransom yanked the belt free of his pants, folding it in half and holding it in one hand. With his free hand, he turned you over, pulled your ass into the air and gently rubbed his hand over the soft skin.

“I think two or three will be enough,” you heard him mumble, then the belt whistled through the air, hitting your right butt cheek, the sting immediate, heat spreading across your ass and pooling in your stomach, your nipples hardening noticeably, a low moan of desire leaving you.

Ransom caressed you, gently, rubbing over the welt left by his belt. You felt him shift on the bed, then the distinctive sound of the belt as he raised it and brought it down on your left butt cheek.

You gasped, falling forward, your breasts rubbing against the soft, plush blankets on the bed. If Ransom didn’t relieve the ache between your legs soon, you were going to rub your entire body all over the bed, anything to relieve the tension.

“One more,” Ransom whispered as he lifted you, the belt connecting with your already sensitive skin almost immediately, the sting both painful and unbelievably satisfying.

Ransom’s hands were on you in a second, caressing your ass, rubbing it gently. He crouched down behind you, his lips drifting over the reddened skin, his fingers pushing into your wet pussy, followed seconds later by his tongue. He pulled you back toward him, opening you up, fucking you with his fingers and his tongue, finally pushing you up to the edge and taking you over, the orgasm rolling through you, taking you to unbelievable heights of pleasure. You pressed your face into the blankets on the bed, muffling your screams of pleasure, praying no one downstairs could hear you.

Ransom pushed up behind you, his fingers still moving inside you as he pulled you against his chest, all while whispering what a good girl you were. You fell forward, balancing on your elbows as Ransom grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back against him as he slid his thick cock inside you, filling you completely. You moaned, the sound dirty and obscene as he thrust into you, pounding into you, burying his cock so deep inside you that his pelvic bone pressed against your ass.

You gripped the blankets, twisting your hands around in them, your knuckles white and aching as you pushed back against him, every thrust hitting your sweet spot, his hand between your legs, his fingers on your clit, rubbing the swollen nub of nerves with two fingers until your walls clamped down on him, drawing his own orgasm from him as another one consumed you, his hips stuttering slightly as his control slipped, his hands tight on your hips, holding you tight against him.

Ransom released you, his cock sliding out of you as he rolled to his back with a satisfied groan. You fell to the bed, completely satisfied and utterly exhausted. You buried your face in the blankets on the bed, humming contentedly.

The bed shifted and Ransom leaned over you, his lips pressed to your ear. “That was fucking amazing,” he murmured. “I forgot how good we were together.”

You turned to look at him, propped on your elbow. You traced a finger down his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. “We are good together, aren’t we?”

“Ransom!” Linda’s voice carried through the halls, calling her son’s name. “Ransom!”

“Shit,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. He grabbed his clothes and tugged them on, then he threw yours on the bed. “Get dressed, babe. I’ll see you downstairs.” He spun on his heel and yanked open the door.

“Mother,” you heard him say. “What can I do for you?”

“There you are,” Linda said. “Your grandfather is looking for you.”

“Great,” you heard him mutter. “This should be fun.”

You hurried to pull on your clothes, listening as Ransom and his mother headed down the stairs, stairs you’d always thought were too noisy. You still remembered the telltale creaking from the nights you’d had to sneak out of Ransom’s room, freezing whenever one of them made a noise, sure that Linda or Richard, or maybe even Harlan, would catch you.

Once you were dressed, you grabbed your glass of wine and quickly finished it off. You checked yourself in the mirror, pushing a hand through your hair, trying your best to keep it from looking like you’d just had sex. You weren’t sure that it worked; you’d just have to hope for the best.

Another cursory glance in the mirror and you were ready to head back downstairs. “Looks like my vacation might not be so boring after all,” you whispered to yourself.


End file.
